


Quitting You

by LadyOfTheOldWorld



Series: Children of Agni [4]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula Has Problems, Borderline Personality Disorder, F/F, Gen, I am kind to no-one, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Most of these are only hinted to be the case, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Only Sociopathy/Anti-Social Personality Disorder is mentioned by name, Sociopathy, anti-social personality disorder, paranoid schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheOldWorld/pseuds/LadyOfTheOldWorld
Summary: Zuko tells her she needs to go see his sister. Zhuo finally makes a choice about her feelings for the insane, younger Agni sibling.- - - -Rated for content and language.





	Quitting You

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place roughly two and a half years after the second chapter of "Twisted, Messed up," and roughly three after the beginning of TMU. I own nothing but Zhuo. Azula has _so many_ issues, but Zhuo loves her anyway. Also, it's never exactly stated how Azula slowly regains her sanity over the two years between the second chapter of TMU, just that she does somewhat. First person p.o.v., from Zhuo. (As an aside, Zhuo also has BPD.)

The hallways were long and creepy. However, the creep factor was somewhat down-played by the fact that the walls were pale blue and the floors had alternating black-and-cream tile. I sighed softly, as I tried to shove my hands deeper into the pockets of my grey skinny jeans, the soles of my black, knee-high lace-up boots making soft squeaking sounds on the tiled floor. _Well_ , I couldn't help thinking, _at least these hall ways aren't_ completely _white, or this'd_ really _be a place out of my nightmares..._ I had always known that there was something - _wrong_ with my head, for lack of a better term, and I had always feared that someday I would end up here, too. But, I also knew that so long as I took my medications, I would be fine. I wouldn't end up here because, so much as I hated to admit it, there wasn't _quite_ as much wrong with me as there was with the woman - girl? she was still only seventeen, after all - I had come to see. I winced internally at that thought, but managed to keep my outward expression calm and placid; it wouldn't help matters if I freaked now, after all. Then I remembered what my best guy friend – and incidentally, the older brother of the person I had come to see – had told me, sobering my thoughts.

" _You need to see what she's become, Zhuo. You need to know why we keep saying she's no good for you."_

I knew what he meant - I knew that he _cared_ \- but I also knew that he was right. Little as he visited her (her birthday and the obligatory anniversary of their Mother's death) I knew that he, Zuko, knew more about this than I did. I needed to have a dose of fear come from the person I cared about most, even if only to assure myself that I did still care. I had cared for her since the day we had met in elementary school. No, I hadn't loved her then – because it would be stupid to deny what I felt – but over the years since, the compassion I had initially felt had undergone a few transformations. I had known with certainty by the time we were thirteen and twelve, respectfully, that she would always be my best friend. Less than three years later, when everything fell apart, I knew that I had fallen hard for her. Of course I also knew that, though I wasn't the only one who cared, her brother had already given up on ever having his sister back.

"Here we are, Room Six."

I blinked, the nurse's speaking shaking me from my thoughts. I glanced to the left, and almost flinched. A metal door, that was probably bullet-proof and obscenely thick, and a keypad separated me from the person I had come to see. I remembered that we had passed through a door much like this one, when we entered this wing of the psychiatric hospital. A chill raced down my spine. God, was she… was she really this dangerous…? I hadn't been there the night it had all gone down, but I did know from what Zuko had been able to tell Yue and I – I wasn't going to let her drive herself to the hospital Zuko had been admitted to, not in the emotional state she had been in – that she had snapped completely. He had said that his sister had been getting more and more paranoid, more obsessive, more cruel, more prone to lashing out over the months leading up to her complete psychotic breakdown. (I didn't know because I was a grade ahead of everyone else, and thus busier.) Their Father had been away for the weekend on a business trip, when it had happened. The two siblings had ended up having a fight, and his sister had snapped finally. In the end, he had been rushed to the hospital with multiple stab wounds, and she'd been hauled off in handcuffs to the psychiatric ward of the same hospital.

She'd been deranged, but it'd been _three years_. Could she _really_ still be that dangerous…?

Shaking myself, I decided to stall; though usually one of the more level-headed of my friends, it seemed I needed some time to collect myself. I focused my attention on the nurse, who turned out to be a doctor, something it seemed I had missed when I was escorted inside the security door separating the lobby/waiting room from the hospital proper. She was about an inch or so taller than I, if I had to guess, putting her at 5'11". That was the first thing I noticed. Secondly, I noted how her hair (cropped short in all places aside from her bangs, which hid her right eye from view) shone purple under the florescent lights. She seemed to be eyeing me almost warily, but what I found most unnerving was how her eyes were purple as well. With her lean, powerful build that not even the blouse, trousers, and lab coat could hide, and her exotic looks – though pale, I could tell she was perhaps Italian – I had to quickly look away before I started entertaining thoughts that would do me no good. Despite the fact that I knew my heart belonged to someone already, I had always had a thing for the women that were both beautiful and had the ability to beat me in a fight (hence the crush I had had for a time on my martial-arts sensei).

Wresting myself from my thoughts, I offered her – Dr. L. Noin – a small smile, before turning my grey gaze to the door. Taking a breath, and squaring my shoulders, I nodded to the doctor, who then quickly typed the code to unlock the door into the keypad. "I'm well aware, Miss Fon, of your connection to this patient," Dr. Noin began. (I had been right, I noted. A slight Italian accent touched her words.) "However, I must warn you. She is volatile at the best of times, so do try not to make her mad. Even if we have twenty-four/seven security cameras trained on these rooms, the patients they contain are still highly dangerous, and highly intelligent as well. Your friend, Miss Agni, is no exception to that." I missed the fact that she was being slightly patronizing.

Resisting the urge to smirk, I bit back a laugh. _Of course_ she was highly intelligent; she hadn't been taking nearly college-level courses at fourteen for nothing. But, the mirth faded. Would she really be anything like I remembered her, after three long years here? I couldn't help but wonder. How much did a psychotic break, followed by three years in a psychiatric hospital, change someone? Was Zuko right, and she was too far gone to be brought back? I would just need to wait and see, it seemed. Then, the opening of the door to Room Six in the Maximum Security Wing (called 'Isolation,' or 'Solitary,' by the other patients from what I had heard) made my thoughts moot point.

Noin spoke quietly. "You have an hour. Worst comes to worst - well. Let's hope it doesn't."

Nodding in response, I found myself suddenly wordless, before slipping into the room. It didn't look like anything I'd expected. The room was far from bare, as I had, and I that was what threw me off the most. I supposed I had been expecting something along the lines of padded walls, floor, and ceiling, but the room was far, far from that. The floor was tile, just like the hall outside, and even had the same alternating pattern, but that was the least interesting feature of the room. It was a simple set up, really. A small twin bed against the far and right-hand wall, a dresser at the middle of the far wall, and an armchair beside the dresser, with a standing lamp between the chair and the far corner.

It was everything else that had me reeling, even though it probably shouldn't have. The walls were painted a specific shade of sapphire (her favorite color, though no-one else would ever have believed it) with the bedding and chair being just a few shades lighter. But it was what covered all available wall space, from floor to ceiling, that really made me blink in surprise for a moment. I had known she liked to read, as she would always remind me that knowledge was power, but this… Bookcases, filled to the brim with books on every subject imaginable and then some. They were all arranged meticulously, obsessively - alphabetically by subject, and then by author in the same way - and filled every space that wasn't already taken up. There was even a small stack on the nightstand beside the bed.

It looked like her entire book collection had been transported from her room and the library back at the ~~prison~~ manor, but that was impossible. After all, the last thing she'd done before the cops got there had been to burn the place to the ground. It had been rebuilt by now, but still, her books had been one of the first things to go up in smoke that night. Of course, I knew they hadn't been the only things. Then I realized that I was stalling again – sensei would've been ashamed; I usually faced everything else, even head injuries and broken bones, fearlessly – and forced myself to look at the girl I had come to see. She looked both the same, yet not. I berated myself; it had been three years, so things were bound to change, even if only subtly. She was paler than I remembered, but three years without seeing the sun would do that to anyone.

Her eyes were still golden and sharp as ever, though, so I found myself wondering if she had really snapped at all. Her dark brunette hair had finally evened out, it seemed. (Zuko had mentioned that her bangs had been the first thing she'd attacked in her deranged state of mind, and then she'd smashed her mirror because she'd been hallucinating their Mother, apparently.) It was now worn in a simple braid, as opposed to the severe, complicated bun she had taken to wearing it in once she had turned thirteen. As per usual, her clothing was black and red; some might have called her punk if she hadn't always been so meticulous about things like her appearance and her grades. (She wore black skinny jeans and a red Flyleaf t-shirt, amusingly the exact color-opposite of the black Evanescence t-shirt I had on.) She was seated cross-legged in the armchair, reading an Advanced Calculus textbook.

I would have laughed at how normal it was, if it weren't obvious we were in a mental institution.

Her voice, still sharp and uncaring as ever - though with a strange, emotionless quality to it – broke me from my thoughts and observations. "So, are you just going to keep _staring like an idiot_ for the rest of the hour, or are you actually going to _say_ something?" She didn't even so much as look up from her reading when she addressed me. Again I was struck by how surreal this was, how juxtaposedly normal and abnormal it was.

My lips twitched into a smile for a moment, at her words. Well, at least she hadn't changed too much, if she had really changed at all. "Looks like your wit is still as sharp as ever," I mused, allowing myself to relax a fraction. If anyone knew me well enough, they would know that I was naturally high-strung and tense, but that when I was nervous or anxious or anything like that it would just get a thousand times worse. So, the fact that I was ~~forcing~~ allowing myself to relax in this situation meant either one of two things, or both. One, I was crazier than I was willing to admit. Or two, I was actually comfortable around her – around _Azula_ – something very few people could truthfully say. I was beginning to think that the latter was a direct result of the former.

"What, did you _assume_ that just because I had lost my mind that I had lost my wit as well?" Azula drawled, and for the first time, I saw just how much emotion she really lacked. To anyone else, she might have been charming and cruel and somewhat daring. Yet I knew that it was all fake, was all a mask. A sham and charade put on to impress and manipulate and control. Or, rather, I had just _realized_ it, and felt pretty stupid for not noticing it before.

So, like the idiot I tended to be most of the time, I blurted, "It's all fake, isn't it?" That was when Azula finally looked up at me, face expressionless aside from perhaps a trace of boredom. I felt like a mouse looking into the eyes of the snake that was about to eat me, pinned by that sharp, cold, _emotionless_ golden gaze as I was. "Is _what_ all fake, Zhuo?"

Even after three years, she could still make me melt with just the way she said my name. But this time, I forced myself not to react to it. I somehow managed to keep myself steady, and pretended that this was just the time before and after I was called for a match in a martial-arts tournament. Nerve-wracking and horrid, but requiring the use of all the discipline I had learned over the years to keep myself from showing any sort of weakness, waiting for the judges to make their call. If I showed anything just then, Azula would know she had won (unless this was all in my head?) and know that she could still wrap me around her little finger with just a word. Now I really understood what Zuko had meant, though I thought I had known before. I locked gazes with her. I felt like I was looking at the sun. "Your emotions. You don't feel _anything_ , do you?"

My mind was racing even as she responded. I was putting together the pieces that were repeatedly smacking me in the face, and should have been obvious a long time ago. _Damn_ the fact that I hadn't paid attention to my psychology classes, even if they'd just been electives I had taken for fun, since it had been that or Spanish. "What _ever_ gave you the impression that I _did_?" She sounded... maybe annoyed, but I also knew that she must have been a really good actress, or just really good at faking emotions. I wouldn't have even known that her emotions _were_ fake, if I hadn't just realized it. If she hadn't just confirmed it. Then I said the words that would probably change a whole _damn_ lot about that way I thought of and viewed this girl.

"You're a sociopath, aren't you?"

She just looked at me like I was stupid.

It was probably going to make her want to rip my head off, but once I realized something and started talking, the words all but tripped over themselves and each other to get out. "You're a sociopath, and normally… _normally_ , you're like this – _cold_ and _cruel_ and completely _devoid_ of emotions, but able to fake them _so well_ most people wouldn't even know the _difference_... But when _something_ or _someone_ – like _Zuko_ , right? Or _Mai_ and _Ty Lee_ – sets you off, you just… you _lose it_ completely, and you end up _deranged_ and _psychotic_ and…" I forced my mouth shut at that point, since Azula really _would_ try to rip my head off if I kept talking about that, if the look she was giving me were any indication.

There were a few moments of silence while I collected myself as best I could. Azula just kept watching me like a hawk watches its next meal. "Look, Zula," I finally sighed, feeling suddenly very tired. "You know I like to play poker, and sometimes I'll bet with your brother, just to rub in the fact that I'm better at cards than he is. But…"

Her expression clearly read, ' _Get to the point already_ ,' so I continued.

"But I don't _really_ gamble, and – _damnit_ , Zula, I _care_ about you." She rolled her eyes and muttered, "No, _really_?" her scathing tone questioning my intelligence, but I forged ahead anyways. "I _care_ about you, but this… you… You're a _gamble._ You're stakes _way_ too high for my comfort level… So I fold. I quit. I concede to the fact that I _can't do this_." What I didn't say, was, _I'm quitting you because you're a bad habit. I won't let you drag me down with you, no matter how much I love you._

Then, without so much as a good-bye, I turned around and knocked just loud enough for Noin to hear me. As I left, I could've sworn I heard Azula murmur, "So, even _you_ 've given up on me," but I really wasn't sure. At any rate, before I could turn around to see if I had heard correctly, the door had shut behind me. My visit with my best-friend-slash-unrequited-love was officially over. I tried not to think too much about the conversation we had just had, as Noin led me back out to the lobby. I told myself I didn't care, that I'd cut her out of my life and she couldn't hurt me anymore. Numbly (I had no clue what I supposed to feel after something like that) I marked down the time I left in the guest log, and then exited the psychiatric hospital.

I spent the next hour allowing myself the cry session I had felt coming for the past hour or so, before managing to marginally collect myself and drive back to my apartment. Thankfully, there wasn't too much traffic, so I didn't have too much time to think about the visit. For the next few months, once school started (it was the end of August) I buried myself in schoolwork and my part-time job at the local bookstore as best I could. I begged off contact with my friends outside of school as much as was possible. Then in April, six months after I had visited Azula, Zuko called me. It wasn't unusual, since my friends were persistent about my not being completely asocial, but what the conversation was about threw me for one Hell of a loop.

He told me that Azula was being released. It seemed that she had worked her way back to sanity, and was cured, or at least mostly sane and the rest medicated. Apparently, our group of friends (Mai and Ty Lee included) were having a little get-together the night she came home. The thinly-veiled offer of an invitation was something I wanted to decline right away. I knew I was like an addict where his sister was concerned, but I could also hear the pleading in his voice, no matter how he tried to mask it. Normalcy was needed, and so I decided to give in, if only because of how much I cared about my friends. I wondered if it had been my visit that spurred Azula to actually make an effort at getting better, but I supposed I would never know one way or the other.

She wouldn't have told me, and I wouldn't ask.


End file.
